Prior to the advent
of modern psychology, treatment of the criminally insane amounted to little
more than locking 'em up and throwing away the key, as testified by countless
films set in labyrinthine asylums whose walls echo to the screams and
ravings of the inmates. An asylum, then, would seem as good a place as
any to set a story characterized by volatile personalities and sinister
happenings in gloomy candlelit corridors.

Under the lingering influence of the Reign of Terror, Charenton Insane
Asylum aims for a more progressive approach, driven by the ideals of the
Abbe du Colmier (Joaquin Phoenix). Pyromaniacs, rapists and murderous
sociopaths are all gently coaxed along the path to sanity -- all except
the asylum's most infamous patient, the unrepentant, gleefully lascivious
Marquis de Sade. Unbeknownst to the Abbe, the Marquis' purgative works
on seduction, incest and innumerable perversions enjoy a ready market
on the streets beyond the walls of his luxurious cell. Devoured by rich
and poor alike, the much-anticipated tales are distributed by Madeleine
(Kate Winslet), a wholesome, dusky-cheeked laundrywoman with an innocent
fondness for the Marquis and his stories.

The Marquis' fame
eventually reaches Napoleon himself, who demands that this aristocratic
affront to common decency be silenced. When the abbe's efforts to persuade
the Marquis to refrain from selling his therapy fail, he turns under duress
to a well-known doctor, whose methods could hardly be more different from
his own. Within days Dr. Royer-Collard (Michael Caine) -- with his beautiful,
naïve new wife (Amelia Warner) in tow -- institutes a new regime and a
bitter battle of wills ensues.

As the Abbe's influence
begins to slip away, the Marquis' rebellion becomes more daring and catalyses
the disintegration of Colmier's carefully maintained virtue and the flight
of Collard's unhappy wife. The righteous rage of the cuckolded husband
and the priest's loss of moral certainty, combined with mutinous whisperings
among the inmates build to a tragic climax.

Although Geoffrey
Rush consistently steals scenes as the Marquis, thoroughly enjoying the
over-the-top pantomime villainy, Michael Caine's equally unrestrained
doctor and Warner's ingénue lend depth. The script neatly skims "forbidden
love" clichés, sensitively rendering the dynamic between Winslet's laundry
maid, de Sade and Colmier, as the priest takes on her education, his burgeoning
feelings, and the Marquis' malicious probing. Phoenix delivers a riveting
performance in Colmier's transition from sure shepherd of the flock to
a man with an ever more tenuous grip on his own sanity.

Blackly comic and
less graphic than the subject matter might suggest, Quills effectively
maintains the gothic tone (complete with Irvingesque dark horseman) throughout,
while diluting the shock value of the original stage play and glossing
over historical fact. But taken at face value, the wonderfully wicked
Quills forms a literate melodrama as much about freedom
of expression as the "crimes of love."